“In five minutes,” was the answer.
“Then, Phil, I advise you to get into the cars at once. Take a seat on the opposite side, though there is no chance of your being seen by Pietro, who will get here too late. Still, it is best to be on the safe side. I will stay near the ferry and watch Pietro when he lands. Perhaps I will have a little conversation with him.”
“I will go, Paolo.”
“Well, good-by, Phil, and good luck,” said Paul, cheerfully. “If you ever come to New York, come to see me.”
“Yes, Paolo, I will be sure to come.”
“And, Phil, though I don’t think you will ever fall into the power of that old brute again (I am sure you won’t if you take good care of yourself), still, if he does get you back again, come to me the first chance you get, and I will see what I can do for you.”
“Thank you, Paolo. I will remember your kindness always,” said the little fiddler, gratefully.
“That is all right, Phil. Good-by!”
“Good-by!” said Phil, and, shaking the hand of his new friend, he ascended the steps, and took a seat on the opposite side, as Paul had recommended.
“I am sorry to part with Phil,” said Paul to himself. “He’s a fine little chap, and I like him. If ever that old brute gets hold of him again, he shan’t keep him long. Now, Signor Pietro, I’ll go back and see you on your arrival.”